


all'alba sorgero

by poppyharris



Category: Chronicles of Narnia - C. S. Lewis
Genre: F/M, it's just, it's kinda bad i'm sorry, no actual underage stuff, trying to work out your head cuz you're a bit mental
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-24
Updated: 2020-11-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:42:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27697789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poppyharris/pseuds/poppyharris
Summary: peter wants to go home, but he doesn't know where home is, or if there was anyone waiting for him.
Relationships: Peter Pevensie/Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 3





	all'alba sorgero

**Author's Note:**

> this started off as a peppa pig satire fic with bondage but then i just couldn't finish  
> neither could daddy pig but yknow

the sun rose over the kingdom, gently melting the top snow. narnia’s new cycle was a little unnerving to the inhabitants. but peter was delighted when the snow melted, then gathered, then melted again. lucy used to clasp her hands and squeal when the river began running again, but as the days melted into years, it became so… normal.

“here, have a goblet,” susan smiled, staring across at her siblings. peter took a deep breath. when had they grown so old? where had the time gone? edmund still drank out of the jug, like he did when he was young. but he didn’t look like edmund. 

“apparently a white stag has been spotted, in the outer forest,” lucy mentioned conversationally, smiling, despite peter’s crestfallen face.

“shall we go on a hunt for it?” edmund smiled, nodding eagerly. peter tried to make himself smile, but probably looked constipated. he looked down at his hands, and stared at the back of his hand. someone used to rub their thumb against there as they spoke. chatting about her life, chatting about her new hand cream, chatting… 

betty. he could wish for betty. he could wish for her to be here. he could marry her, she could be a consort- 

no, she would be too old now. she’d be married, david boston had always been sweet on her. if she’d survived the war at all, that is. god, he’d been here in narnia, larking around and betty, dear sweet betty, had probably been shivering in a drafty anderson shelter. 

he couldn’t imagine her old though. he couldn’t imagine her all grown up. he’d done it predictably enough, but what would betty look like? would she still do those intricate braided crowns? would she still need to stand on her tip toes to press a kiss to his cheek? 

mother had always tutted whenever he came home with a lipstick stain on his face, declaring that thirteen year olds shouldn’t be throwing themselves at each other like they did. they weren’t thirteen anymore, sneaking kisses behind the sweet shop. they were grown up now.

but still, that lingering doubt ebbed at his head, and his mind. they must’ve been presumed dead. god, who would’ve told betty? he was always so good at comforting her, even when she received the terrible news about her brother’s imprisonment in germany. 

he’d tap her nose, and then rub her cheeks, and she’d chew forlornly on his last piece of gingerbread. he wouldn’t blame her for marrying. although he couldn’t stand the thought of her becoming mrs boston. maybe she had a child. peter’s memory became hazy, how long had it been? 

his siblings finished their breakfast, humming appreciatively at the servants. peter could manage little more than a queasy smile. why had she come back into his head? no. betty had always been on his mind. every morning his fingers had reached for the other side of his bed, and his heart had always squeezed a little tighter when he felt nothing but cold sheets.

“do you require a coat, peter?” 

peter wheeled around, trying to work out who was speaking to him. lucy was smiling at him innocently, still looking as fresh faced as she did 15 years ago. did he look the same? if he tried to find her, would she still remember him? would she even recognise him? he ached to ask his siblings if they still thought he looked young, but he feared he’d look vain.

“no, thank you though, lucy,” he smiled, choosing to tie his tippet around his shoulders. peter took a deep breath, and smiled around at everyone. susan gave him a minute nod, and peter began his walk towards the entrance. he needed to get a grip. 

where was he from? peter thought as he saddled niamh up for the long trek towards the outer forests. spare-oom was always the answer he was given, but he desperately wracked his brains as to where he was truly from.

fiddlehead? he thought as they passed a field of ferns, ready to be harvested and used for fuel. 

fables? peter mused as they galloped eagerly towards the outer woods. 

finchley! it suddenly came to him as they headed towards a clearing. it was… bizarrely familiar. a gas lamp post stood in the middle of it, still lit and burning bright. “oh!” lucy cried out, dismounting jes and running towards it. “it’s still here,” she mumbled, running her fingers along it. peter raised an eyebrow, staring at the lamp post. 

susan stood behind her, crossing her arms. “where would it go? it’s a lamp post,” she laughed, before looking towards where the trees became thicker. “isn’t…?”

lucy gasped in joy, clasping her hands together. “it is!” she grasped at her skirts, raising them to start running into the denser trees. edmund and susan stared at each other for a second, before running after her. “lucy! wait up!” edmund called as he ran. 

peter didn’t run though. he stood at the lamp post, a hand on it. did he really want to go back? how would the world be? could he just live a normal life? betty, wherever she was, had lived her life without him for so long. could peter just find her and incorporate himself?

he sighed, running after his siblings. family comes first after all.

he caught up to them, edmund digging his elbows into his sisters. “hey! stop it! you’re standing on my foot!” peter wasn’t sure who said what, but everyone was pushing and shoving to try and get through the forest. as they moved though, peter became more aware that they were walking on something harder than the forest floor.  
eventually, they reached the end, and all of a sudden, they tumbled out and onto the floor.

looks like peter wasn’t going to have to worry about being too old for betty.

**Author's Note:**

> song: all'alba sorgero (i rise at dawn) - serena autieri


End file.
